Ziplock
by Xyliette
Summary: Post 4.14. After pulling off a flawless day Mark insists that he be able to take Addison out. Mishaps with mascara wands, broken shoes, lost reservations and nearly getting kicked out of not-so-fine establishments result in an eventful night. Mark/Addison


A/N: So the prompt for this entailed that I be funny. Well I apologize in advance cause I flopped on that but I think I got the rest of the elements down alright. Oh, and please note that I am well aware my lines for the upcoming Richard/Addison speech right down there aren't exact. I had to rely on memory which is never a good thing. Lastly, to the rest of you who have outstanding prompts with me I swear I am working on it. Blame school kids, it ruins lives, more specifically mine. Title and cut lyrics belong to Lit. Enjoy-****

**_--_**  
**_Zip-lock_**  
**_--_**

It wasn't something that Addison had planned on. She was certain when she stood out in front of Seattle Grace Hospital on that oddly sunny morning that she had made the right decision. She was sure when she nearly lifted Meredith off her tiny feet, she was positive when she hugged Karev but now staring back at Richard after a surgery that very well could have been done without her she doesn't know anymore. To her displeasure everyone had changed, everything was different and yet it was all the same. Well, more specifically Mark was the same. Mark. The only person who seemed pleasantly surprised to see her, even given their past. Then again he was horny. It made sense. She's pulled from her reverie by the sound of her name warmly vibrating off of Richard's lips.

"Hmm?" She hums tilting her head and trying to pay attention better this time.

"I said when are you coming back?"

Addison takes a deep breath. They're different. They're the same. They don't miss her. They definitely don't need her. It's all very confusing and none of it is aided by her recent stint in the Hollywood lights and California sun. "I think...you need to fill my position."

"You sure?" He asks again hopefully.

"Yeah. I made the right choice." She looks on down the hall at a patient being rushed toward the elevator. She does miss that part. She misses being good at her job. "I had to come back to see that leaving was the right choice." She smiles weakly and pats him on the shoulder on her way to the locker room to change. There's a plane out there with her name on it.

**_--_**

She glances down at the pager on her hip when she finally makes her way through the mazes of tile and bland walls. Starting over has never in the history of mankind been this difficult she decides and pulls off the black square just as it begins to vibrate. When they handed it to her she thought it was a joke. There was only one patient on her list but she gave in and wore it around all day feeling the smooth lines jab at her thin blue scrubs just like it was any other day. Glancing down as she reaches for the drawstrings on said blue scrubs she groans. The man is persistent, she has to give him that.

**_--_**

"I didn't come in here to be persuaded. I made up my mind." Addison opens, drifting to the chair in front of her old boss but refusing to sit down.

"Sit." He growls and she obliges more than willingly at the tone.

"Richard..." Her head drops when it gets too heavy for her neck to support in the current circumstances and she takes a minute to herself. One breath in, one breath out- just like Violet taught her. "If-"

"It's my turn to talk." He pushes a stack of papers forward. "Look at these." When she refuses to lift her head he scoots them a little farther up and begins flipping through them slowly enough so that she can see the names. Every patient she rounded on, every patient she cut open, every patient she lost, every patient she gave the gift of a new life to...they're all there. Printed out side by side, the list of names blurs over and over as the tears scorch her once dry eyes. This isn't fair, hell she isn't sure it's legal but it's one hell of a tactic.

Richard leaves her be for a minute before beginning again. "Those people- some of them would have died without you. Some of them wouldn't have children. Some of those children wouldn't have mothers. You save lives Addison. You are not meant to sit idly on your hands while I try and hunt down someone half as talented."

She dabs her eyes with the back of her hand and wonders when she turned into such a sucker. Must be all the sun. "You'll be fine." She speaks when she finally can, when she's sure her voice won't give out.

"Yes I will but you might not be." He looks up at her tired face, wrinkles and worry lines all appropriately hidden by smooth makeup. "I'm concerned about you. You come in prancing around like some damn fool and then expect me to believe that you think you made the right decision?"

"You told me to get a new life! You told me to get a new job!" She counters immediately, growing more frustrated and red by the second.

"Yes I did." He admits as they slowly sink into a mutual silence. "I didn't think it would be like this Addie. I didn't think, I wasn't in a place to be thinking for you that day and I apologize but people they make mistakes, I made a mistake. I've made many in my lifetime and I'm smart enough to recognize an easy one when I see it. You are making a mistake and I'm not saying this as your old boss or your mentor or a greedy Chief of Surgery...at one of the finest hospitals in the nation...I'm saying this as your friend. You are making a mistake...and your simple error is going to cost other people their lives."

She glares at him, tears replaced by anger, "That's not fair."

"Life's not."

"You don't know that. You don't know. I could save people down where I'm at. I save people everyday, I do, maybe not the people you want me to save but I do...save people." One breath in, one breath out.

"You're out of practice and you're tan. You expect me to believe that the person who nearly dropped a scalpel earlier is out there saving lives everyday?" He cocks his eyebrow and she balls her fist so as not to slap him. "I see everything."

"I didn't almost drop that- if you had decent scrub nurses who knew what a hand looked like then maybe I wouldn't have fumbled but it doesn't matter either way because I'm not staying...I can't...I couldn't."

He grins when he knows she's hooked, "You could." He challenges.

"No." She shakes her head trying to keep the resolve to return to the beach house and not impulsively sign away her life and end up screwing Mark in twenty minutes because that's what her life is here. That's what it became and there's no fixing these monumental cracks she made. She wouldn't even know where to begin no matter how much she'd like to have another shot at it.

"I guess I'll just have to hire number two then. Who is it again? Dr. Williamson? I've heard he's actually better than you."

"You're trying to bait me and it's not working. I'm the best. Williamson is an inferior monkey of a man." She laughs internally at the obvious abuse of self confidence. Her lips purse pensively and suddenly she hates the man in front of her for yanking her emotions every which way for a result but the ending is undeniable. Seattle, with all of its many, many faults and horrible history is going to be home again and secretly she likes it that way. "I would have conditions."

"Of course." Richard clears his throat and tries not to smile in victory. If this didn't work he was going to gun for her personal life because it is no small wonder that the smile on Mark Sloan's face has everything to do with the woman in front of him...well her and the fact that he did something rather godlike apparently. Richard fails to see the humor or admire the quality. That man has caused him more than enough problems with all his boasting and it's only been worse since Addison ran off. He needs a leash and Richard knows just the woman who wants to hold the handle.

She looks up at him as he pulls away a year of patient history and tucks it back into a sliding drawer next to him, "That was low by the way."

"It worked."

"I'll deny that till the day I die." She grins.

"Do as you please. I expect you to be back starting Monday or else. Call the movers."

"I don't do ultimatums Richard. I'm the star, I call the shots." The unexpected smirk graces her face within seconds as the playful banter takes over.

"I think all that money I put into promoting you went straight to your head." He chuckles.

"Perhaps." She stands, brushes off some non-existent lint from her skirt and sways to the door, and shakes his hand. "See you Monday."

"That's what I thought."

**_--_**

She stumbles out of the room and right into none other than the man who propositioned her earlier who is wearing one of the most ridiculous smiles she has ever seen. "I said no."

"What?"

"I'm not sleeping with you." She clarifies and starts off down the hall leaving him to play catch up.

"I didn't ask you to." He spits out when he reaches her.

"You did earlier."

"Well I'm not now...and you didn't exactly seem opposed to the idea earlier."

"Oh...well what did you want?" Her heels click harder into the floor leaving Mark to sturdy his gait in light of the challenge.

"Just was checking in on a little project of mine. So what did Richard want?"

"None of your business." She turns a corner swiftly but her voice carries lightly behind her.

"I think it is." Mark corrects.

"Why? Why would it be...oh..." The gears turn lightly in her head and she realizes that she should have known Richard wasn't nearly that resourceful, "You did that?"

"Might have. Depends on what we are talking about." He grins cheekily, beyond proud of his skills. Compiling lists of things you aren't privileged to isn't exactly a quick task. He's God, Master and Lord today and it burns so good.

"Did you...you...I can't believe it." She smacks his arm with her large beige purse and glares intently as they come to a halt.

"You should be thankful, it wasn't easy. I had to recruit some stupid intern with a photographic memory and a penchant for "borrowing" things." His fingers use the air quotes and she shakes her head. Of course it was Mark because his life serves to merely torture her with endless possibilities.

"Well that's not why I'm coming back."

"So you are coming back then?" He tilts his head to the side waiting for an answer as she grows infuriated.

"Yes, I mean no...Maybe." She stutters trying to remain unaffected by his close proximity and delicious smelling cologne.

"Uh-huh."

"Shut up." She demands and begins walking away.

"I hope you know my fee for this is a date!" He shouts down the hallways after her, "I'll pick you up tomorrow at seven!" He takes it as a good omen that she doesn't stalk back and slap him or decline the offer. It may have taken weeks of preparation, threatening lowly fish with their careers and a few nights of complex thinking and hazy dreams but he's finally going to get the girl.

**_--_**

It's absolutely stupid to feel the butterflies swooping and diving in her stomach over the thought of Mark being in this very room in half an hour, Addison is well aware, but she does her best to be distracted by the long line of hair products and lipsticks neatly organized on counter in front of her. She wanted to call it off but there was undeniable friction and tons of unresolved business between them and if she was absolutely honest with herself, which as it turned out she hated being (thank you therapy), she would have to admit that the real reason she was back was for Mark (the fact that she could blame Richard was just an added perk). Because after all the hell they put each other through, again her realizing that she caused a majority of the chaos, she still wanted another shot and she wasn't going to get it in a smoggy, Zen city. There wasn't another way to go about life until she knew once and for all she had given them a real shot and then that shot had burnt to the ground. Then she could move on and date other doctor boys with nice eyes or something but this had to be seen through first.

She used to think the chemistry between them was caused by sexual frustration but the sidelong glances that existed for many years before anything ever happened were about much more than that. She swallows the thick saliva in her mouth and applies another layer of mascara. Twenty minutes to go, which will be more like forty because Mark is never punctual. Her core quivers thinking about how the evening could go and she grabs the edge of the sink to steady her mind. She feels like a fourteen year old going out with a classmate for the first time without a chaperon which is ridiculous because she is a grown woman and a woman who has already gone as far as she possibly can with Mark. There are no secrets here. There's no reason to be nervous. She grabs the mascara again convinced that one set of lashes is fuller looking than another and begins to go to work.

Thirty seconds later a sharp rap on the door sends the wand directly into her eye. "Crap!" She curses under her breath as the blue orb immediately begins watering like crazy and stings so badly she can't open it. "Damn it. Come in!" Her hand lightly pats the tears gushing downward to dry them quickly and as inauspiciously as possible. Not a good start to the evening.

"I can't!" Is the shouted reply she gets and then she remembers that she's in a hotel room. Definitely not a good start. Not only is she an idiot now in front of her date but she also looks like a spotty monster and she's about seventy-nine percent sure that her contacts are going to have to come out because of the damage she just did with the black goop.

"What happened to your eye?" He grimaces, reaching up to yank her hand down so he can see the wound. "Jesus Addison, if you didn't want to go you could've just called me, there was no reason to assault yourself."

"Oh very funny." She wipes her cheek subconsciously and looks toward the clock on the wall with her still blurry vision. "You're early. I blame you for this." She goes to point to the injury when his soft lips fill the void and lightly press into the skin next to her temple. She stares back shocked by the movement and eyes him curiously, "What was that?"

"I was making it all better." He shrugs, "Ready to go?"

"Clearly." She saunters back toward the bathroom with of a promise of only needing ten more minutes as he slides into the chair by the window fully prepared to wait as long as she wants. This is his shot and he'd gladly sit until one in the morning if need be.

In the process of seeking out her glasses she manages to burn her right palm like an idiot on the curling iron she forgot to unplug after she put some loose waves in the brown hair that is pulled half back and now secured with pins. Not wanting to alarm Mark or wanting anymore oddly sweet gestures, that are endlessly unnerving, she settled on blowing on it softly on rocking back and forth on her feet until she didn't want to scream anymore. Now she stands, one heel on, the other one mysteriously missing, hoping that he won't notice it's already been twenty minutes. When she finally locates the shoe, hidden craftily behind the toilet (she has no idea how it got there or when) it's been well over thirty minutes and her stomach has sufficiently tied itself into the tiniest of knots. She pulls back the door with a triumphant grin ready to get her date on only to find said date passed out, snoring lightly and head haphazardly rested on the back of a chair. Apparently all that playing God tires him out.

Addison tiptoes across the room with a soft smile, intent on only repositioning his head so that in the morning he doesn't feel like he's paralyzed but he stirs and mumbles incoherently before she can make it within ten steps. By the time she's standing in front of him his eyelids have fluttered open and he's grinning sleepily. She ignores the obvious digs and jabs she could make about him being too tired to do this because as a fellow surgeon she understands that sometimes you just simply pass out from exhaustion- kind of like the time she fell asleep waiting in line at a grocery store. It happens. "Mark..."

"I'm ready." He yawns and then slowly makes his way to the ground.

"You're sure you want to do this? I'm going to be around awhile...maybe we could try another time, I mean we aren't exactly off to the best start here."

"I want to do this."

"I don't doubt that but you're tired and I've injured myself twice already. Who knows what will happen if we leave the room." She holds up her hand so he can see the blotchy red spot.

"We have reservations." He interjects before she can talk both of them out of doing this. He worked long and hard on his plan and he's not missing the payout. It's been too many days, weeks and months since he has seen her and he selfishly, understandably so, wants as much time as he can get with her before she gets spooked and thinks of the nine hundred reasons why they don't work and why they shouldn't even bother. "Let's go."

She takes his proffered arm cautiously, careful not to trip over her own feet and attempts to ignore all the sparks that fly as they head toward the elevator.

Maybe it won't be such a disaster.

**_--_**

Before they even managed to make it in the door of Mark's picked restaurant Addison somehow caught the end of her long black dress in the door and sufficiently dirtied it by having it blow around on the freeway. It took more than ten minutes before she noticed what was going on and why she couldn't wiggle around in her seat. When Mark offered to pull over, she politely declined and tried to act as though it was no big deal but now staring down at the mangled insect guts and what she is hoping is only rainwater on the bottom six inches of the dress she kind of wants to go back in time. She pulls her eyes from the soiled fabric just in time to hear the small hostess in front of them say that their reservation was lost because of their tardiness.

Eight minutes they couldn't hold a table and Mark nearly looses his temper and asks for the manager before Addison can pull him out of the entry way. "It's ok." She repeats over and over like a broken record until he decides to pay attention.

"It's not ok." He counters, obviously still frustrated by the unsatisfying turn of events. This was supposed to be perfect. It was supposed to be the night she realized that he was worth sticking around for.

"I'm sorry I took so long getting ready. I lost my shoe, but really Mark we can just go back and order room service or something. I'll give you a free pass tonight and not be a picky eater."

"It's not your fault, it's theirs. We weren't even that late." He grumbles looking down at the cement under their feet. He's in a suit, even managed to put on a tie and now they are going to end up in a hotel room? That's a waste of a good looking couple he decides and offers, "We could just drive up the street and see what's there or go park and wander around downtown until we find something."

"That sounds nice." Addison smiles, trying to pull him out of grumpy mode, and reaches for his hand as they head back to the car.

Maybe the night is still salvageable.

**_--_**

"Of course it's raining." Addison declares, throwing her hands into the droplets as Mark searches around his trunk for an umbrella.

"I think it's at work."

"Good place for it." She quips, unable to stop.

"Here." He pulls the black coat off his shoulders and offers it up over her brown hair. He's not particularly fond of the color but she's gorgeous just the same and finicky over her appearance when they go out. He doesn't understand but he does know the routine.

"We're going to walk around with you holding a coat over my head?" She looks back skeptically. The dress is ruined, why not her hair? "It's fine, let's just eat. I'm starving."

They settle on Thai after three blocks of Addison's bitching about the rain misting her carefully placed tendrils and nine million footsteps of Mark trying not to hand her his coat again. For thirty minutes they talk patients, avoid real life and heart ache and even wrangle out a laugh or two. The food is delivered perfect to order and only moderately warm but they both act as though it is a feast and dive in heartily. The real issues don't start until the plates have been removed and Mark mishandles his water glass because of nerves. The liquid shoots straight to Addison's chest, completely soaking her and making it apparent to everyone in the room that her nipples find the new terrain to be cold and unpleasing. She glares when he reaches across with a napkin to assist in clean up and then stands up to scurry off to the grungy bathroom.

Upon her return in the still damp dress she manages to snag a water glass out of the waiter's station and decides that a little payback is necessary for all the pain she has endured this evening. Besides, they could both use a break from adulthood. Unfortunately, just as she gets the glass in position over his head, so as to allow optimal flow, Mark stands and bangs his skull into the hard base. "Shit!" He rubs the spot feverishly. "Damn it Addison!" He yells as she shirks back into her seat, now having the complete and undivided attention of the restaurant for the second time this evening.

"What was that?" He demands, tone still entirely too loud and attracting a few of the staff.

"Payback?" She shrugs and sinks a little lower into the chair and screeches, "My seat is all wet!"

"Well that's what you get." His hand leaves the growing bump momentarily before returning when the pain intensifies. He gulps down another mouthful of beer and dares her to laugh.

"You could have at least cleaned up while I was gone, now I'm going to be soaked again!"

"You look better wet if I remember correctly." He watches her mouth fall open and then rises when their scrawny, pimply waiter turns up with who can only be the manager of the joint. "Don't worry we were just leaving." He reaches into his pocket for his wallet and throws a couple of bills down on the table before yanking Addison out the door.

"Stop dragging me around like a caveman." She wrenches her upper arm out of his grasp and haughtily straightens herself out.

"Come on princess." He teases, "After all this I need a drink."

"I want to go home."

"Bad news." He jingles the keys in front of her face and pulls them away before she can even try to get them, "I'm the driver...and your date...and we need a drink. Maybe we'll be more coordinated with liquor in us because right now we are not on the same wavelength. We aren't on the same planet."

"Oh brilliant plan Dr. Sloan. Alcohol always makes people more coordinated." She rolls her eyes but follows behind him anyway.

He ushers her around a group of young tattooed kids at the coffee shop on the corner by placing a hand on the small of her back and pulling her close to him. Their hips collide in protest but he refuses to break away for half a block. Addison feels her heart rate quicken as their clothed skin rubs together and knows even though this is going horribly there is still something undeniably delightful about being escorted around town by Mark Sloan.

Maybe a few drinks couldn't hurt. It's not like it could get any worse.

**_--_**

"Joe's?" Addison's eyebrow twitches in disapproval.

"What? We both like it here." His forehead creases as she looks out at the neon signs.

"You like it here." She stares distastefully out the window at the familiar building. There is no way she is going in there dressed like this with Mark on her arm. No. She refuses to start out her stay in Seattle by being the hot topic this week during Debbie's famous gossip debriefings.

"Oh come on Addison. Get off your high horse and let me buy you a drink."

"One." She states when he finally makes it to her side of the car and opens the door.

"Two."

"One."

"Fine."

They avoid the questioning glances of their coworkers and scurry to a table in the corner, Addison hoping to blend in with the scenery. It's not possible. Two minutes in, after Mark excuses himself to grab a round of drinks, Izzie Stevens comes over and plays twenty questions. Wanting answers to Addison's employment status and sharing her story about being Gandhi like, she somehow manages to turn Mark and Addison's date into a group event by inviting over a lurking Alex and George with his group of interns.

The pair take it in stride and decide separately and secretly that maybe all their date needs is a few more people to make it less awkward and clumsy.

**_--_**

Addison's laughter three hours later should be a good indication that it's time to leave but instead Mark loosens his tie more and heads to the bar to buy her another shot. So far she has kicked everyone's ass at darts twice and let her hand slip onto his thigh far more then is deemed appropriate for public behavior, especially considering the crowd they managed to befriend all night. He doesn't mind. Drinks in hand and spirits finally high after the horrible first half of their date he returns to the table, "For the lady."

"Thanks." She states with wide eyes and a lopsided smile. Maybe Mark was right. Maybe alcohol does help or maybe she's drunk and hasn't been laid in far too long. Whichever the case, this date, in all of its awfulness is definitely heading to her bed. She hadn't planned it but this is what they do. She bites the side of her lip and rests her warm hand on his knee slowly letting it dance upward until he squirms uncomfortably.

Mark clears his throat feeling the situation begin to tighten, literally, and voices his wishes, "Addison...stop it." He knocks her hand farther down his black trousers only to feel it crawl farther up then the last time in a matter of seconds.

"Wadda'ya say we head back to my place and I show you all the ways I know how to be bendy."

"I know all the ways you are bendy." Mark replies quietly when he notices Stevens gearing everyone up for another round of darts. He wants to seal the deal as much as every other guy that has been staring at her all night long but what he wants more is another date and if he goes back and screws her senseless then every date from there on out will involve a bed and frankly it's time to turn a new leaf. One that involves reservations and going to the movies and holding hands. He finally knows what he wants and the only way to get it is by dating each other.

"Maybe I learned some new ones." She whispers in his ear, nearly loosing her balance in the high chair and toppling over. Instead her uncontrollable hands land strategically in his lap and she rests her head on his shoulder waiting for the green light.

"I'd rather not know." Mark says, sipping lightly at his scotch and remembering to slow her down next time because she is headed straight for puke land at this speed.

It takes a few minutes to process but when Addison gets it, she gets it in a big way and snags her purse from the table heading out to find a cab on the wet roads of Seattle. Mark sprints out the door only after O'Malley threatens to chase her down and gets stuck at a red crosswalk light as she ineptly walks further and further down the other side of the street. By the time he reaches her she is hunched over and crying softly about something he must have missed seeing while he was staring at his jogging feet.

He shakes his head when she lifts up her broken heel without him asking for an explanation. "It's just a shoe Addie."

"It's not just about the shoe!" She shouts and falls into his arms on the way up. "It's the stup-id rain drops on my glasses that make it so I can't see." She hands them over and he dries the lenses on the untucked portion of his white shirt, handing them back like he just solved the world's hunger issues. "And you won't...do...me." She takes off again, after steadying herself, and feels his presence next to her while the salty tears make new paths down her cheeks. It's not an unreasonable request, especially in her swirling mind right now and the knock against her self esteem is all it takes to start crumbling the walls. California and all its men have not been kind to this doctor and now even Mark won't touch her.

The darkened sky and rain try to drown out their path down the narrow sidewalk and for a few minutes Mark lets it and then he decides to get brave because this situation can't get any worse by him opening his mouth. "You know I won't?" He asks softly and scoops her hand into his, tangling their fingers so she can't try and run off when things get too tough or real. It's a preemptive strike against her modus operandi.

"You hate me?" She gulps, deep down knowing he has every right.

Mark laughs a little out loud and then clears the air, "I don't hate you. I could never in a million years hate you. You're an infuriating woman but I will never hate you, ok?" And it's true. She could do anything under the sun and he will never cut his loyalty ties. He'd rather be with her and suffering then away from her and dying. New York proved that to him.

"Ok." She nods.

"I want more dates." Mark asserts as they march along, and unspoken agreement to walk back to the hotel in place.

"Why? This was a train wreck. No, bigger than a train wreck- a crashed plane is what this is."

"Be that as it may..." He stops them and tilts her chin upward when she refuses to look at him, "I enjoyed it."

"How could you enjoy this?" She shakes her head, "This was so bad- I think this is the worst date I have ever been on...including Skippy Gold and _Star Wars_."

"Ouch." Mark feigns hurt by clutching his chest, "Well I'm no Skippy."

"No you are not." She clarifies feeling the mood lighten again.

"But I do want more dates. Will you have me?"

"I don't know." She begins and then feels the all too familiar churning of her stomach. "I think-" She doubles over before she can finish the sentence and expels the entirety of the evening on a wet sidewalk.

Mark closes his eyes when the smell reaches his nostrils and lightly rubs her back until she decides she's done. "You always were a classy drunk." He retorts when she makes it upright. Then he looks down, "Did you...on my shoes. Perfect. Just perfect."

"Sorry." She apologizes with watery eyes that threaten to spill over at any point.

"It's ok. Can we walk now?"

"Yeah." She swaggers into his side and waits until he lifts an arm to throw across her shoulders. It's not the perfect date she was hoping for, hell it's not even a mediocre date, but nonetheless she'd willingly do it again in a heartbeat. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

Mark ponders the possibility for a second before admitting, "I think it would be better if I didn't."

"What if I get sick again?" She asks childishly as they amble forward under the gray clouds and hidden stars. Sometimes what's better than having Mark on top of her in bed is having him next to her in the sheets and that's the part she missed the most in her oceanfront house.

"Then you can call me. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Hey Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for the worst date ever."

He grins knowing exactly how she feels and kisses the top of her head in appreciation, "No problem."

**_--_**


End file.
